


Hannibal on Ice

by AsrielScarlet



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannibal Skates, Hannibal and will, HannibalxWill, Ice Skating, M/M, Manipulation, Murder Family, Skating, Slow Burn, Team Sassy Science, WillxHannibal, figure skating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 17:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8542444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsrielScarlet/pseuds/AsrielScarlet
Summary: I was watching Yuri on Ice, and noticed how much the two main characters look like Hannibal and Will. I just had to make a fan fiction about it. Basically, Will gets dragged ice skating with Team Sassy Science. He meets Hannibal in a rather awkward position, and the two go on from there. Hannibal is still going to be Hannibal. Dark, manipulative, all that good stuff. Smut will be coming up! Please review!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, wonderful people! 
> 
> So, here it goes... An ice skating fanfic! Yay! 
> 
> I'm a figure skater myself, and couldn't resist the topic, especially since Winter is coming. 
> 
> I tried to keep Will and Hannibal as in character as possible, a bit difficult considering Hannibal practically speaks in old English all the time. XD 
> 
> Oh, and as it is hellishly late where I am, I didn't have time to fix any typos or errors, so for that, I apologize!!!
> 
> *bows* 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> Coming up: Team Sassy Science is back and killing it! Jimmy Price is obsessed with jellyfish. He keeps stealing Zeller's Netflix password. And Beverly is Beverly. Get ready for awkward falls, sexy cannibals, smokin hot figure skating tights, and Will Graham being totally confused about everything!

Special agent, Will Graham silently cursed himself for agreeing to this farce. Beverly had bounded up to him on his lunch break, a mischievous grin on her face. Immediately, Will knew that she was planning something of the most dreadful nature.

"Hey, Will!"

He glanced over, eyes flickering to the Asian woman's pale, smiling face, before looking away, not fond of eye contact.

"Hello Beverly."

"So... I was thinking... Because we just finished the case and all..."

The FBI had been investigating a string of horrific murders. The killer would target people of all races, genders and creeds. Their bodies were always mutilated in especially artistic ways. The first death was of a young college man. The body's limbs were cut off, and stuck into different parts of his torso, hanging out like sick ornaments. The Roman numeral 1 was carved into their chest. The second was a makeup sale's woman. Her body was impaled with various makeup brushes and products. The killer was mocking her. He liked to mock his victims, creating ironic scenes for the disgruntled FBI members to walk into.

Jack Crawford had asked for Will's assistance on this particular case after the 6th body had been uncovered two weeks ago. Upon visiting the crime scene (a computer programmer whose organs had been scooped out and placed a desktop case, the cords strung through the man's insides, he had realized that the killer chose his victims not because of how they looked, or what they did, but because of their names.

Leo Adams, Nicky Dylan, Oliver Newton... Those were the first three string of murders.

Emma Logan, Lucas Ianno, Ophelia Tyler. The next three.

Combining the first and last names of all the victims, the murder's identity became clear.

Landon Elliot.

Upon searching the records, they had quickly found the man. 45 years old, and convicted of multiple assaults. He had served a 4 year sentence previously, and upon his release, had sworn to "make the game of his life more interesting."

Jack had called in the police to apprehend the man, but when they had broken down the door of his house, they found the man dead. Body parts from all his victims in order were lain on his dining room table. He sat at the head, gunshot wound through his skull, slumped forwards on the table, bleeding everywhere.

Will knew that the man would do this. He had been playing a game with the FBI, knowing full well that he would be caught. His suicide was just another insult to injury. The man had won. He would never be captured alive, tried for what he had done. Instead, he had successfully gotten away with his murders, exiting the world triumphant before he could be caged.

Jack hadn't been too pleased about the recent case. He was a prideful man, who liked to see criminals get their well deserved justice. That morning, he had called a meeting with Will, Beverly, Zeller and Price.

Large mug of coffee in hand (the man never seemed to be without), he told them that they could take a 'break.' There weren't any new murders, and thus, no cases to work on. Zeller and Price had burst into wide grins, slapping each other on the back and ranting about how they were 'totally going to spend their free time catching up on old James Stewart movies. Beverly hadn't said anything, strange because she was usually the enthusiastic one in the group. Will knew that Jack needed time to file the necessary paperwork on the case, and piece together his injured pride. He had just sat in the corner of the room, listening to the cheerful chatting of his three "colleagues" as they discussed what they were going to do for the next week.

Will raised an eyebrow in reply to his energetic friend's ambiguous statement. Upon seeing this, Beverly reached into her pocket, and pulled out two pieces of paper, laminated and shiny.

"I have four tickets to the Caelum Lake Ice arena! Free skating, rental, and snacks for one day this week!"

Caelum Lake was a famous lake in the Baltimore area for housing a rare breed of trout. One that was notorious for cannibalizing their fellow fish. The water in the lake was also stunningly clear. If one went on a good day, they might be able to see the large species of trout devouring another.

During the winter, the thick, frozen ice was turned into a skating rink. The ice was so dense that the rink owners could actually Zamboni it, creating a perfectly smooth, reflective surface that was almost unheard of for lake rinks.

Will frowned.

"Zeller and Price have already agreed to come! I asked Jack, but he just gave me 'the look." Beverly continued.

When Jack was irritated, he acquired 'the look'. A glare so fierce and icy that it sent everyone within a 20 meter radius scrambing away. Will was surprised that Beverly had been able to stand up to him when he was so obviously irate, but then again, his friend was pretty oblivious to other people's anger, able to easily walk up to the most intimidating people and start friendly conversation. Her openness was refreshing, something that Will greatly admired about her.

"And I know how you're antisocial, Will... So I thought I would ask you to come! It'll be fun!"

Will had been planning to spend his week off (attempting to) catch up on sleep that he desperately needed, reading near a warm fireplace, and playing with his pack of dogs. Being around crowds of people all falling and slipping on ice for an entire day didn't sound that appealing to him.

"You know, Beverly... Being around large amounts of people isn't really my thing... Nor is trying to balance on a 1.5 millimeter blade while on a slippery surface in the cold."

Beverly's smile grew.

"Exactly! This will be a great "socializing Will Graham" experience!" She said enthusiastically, stuffing the ticket into his jacket pocket. He flinched.

"Beverly..."

"I'll see you this Saturday, ok? 12:00 PM! Make sure you bring your ticket!"

Before Will could protest, she jumped up from her chair, grinning and dancing away, her long black hair bouncing behind her.

Will sighed, placing his arm on the desk in which his cooling spaghetti was sitting. He ran a hand through his messy, dark hair and closed his eyes. It was Thursday, leaving Will with one free day before he was going to be forced to the freezing lake to stumble about and fall for hours.

He grimaced, pulling out the slip of paper that Beverly had stuffed into his pocket. In bright, comic sans print, it read "You've Won A Free Day At the Caelum Ice Arena!" Images of smiling children holding mugs of hot chocolate and tottering around the lake filled the page.

His mind raced with polite let downs that he could give Beverly. Discarding his cold noodles, he got up, pocketing the paper once again before starting the long search to find her.

The lab in the basement of the building was no good. He found Price and Zeller deeply involved in a game of poker.

"Beverly? Naw, she ain't here." Muttered Zeller, intent on his hand of cards.

"Haven't seen her." Echoed Price, before slamming down a card yelling, "Straight flush!"

Zeller let out a loud groan, letting his cards fall to the table.

"Uggggg!!!"

Price's face lit up.

"Hah! You owe me! Pay up!"

Confused, Will couldn't help but interrupt.

"Owe?"

Zeller glanced over at him, a look of dispair on his face.

"My Netflix password. For some reason-" he stressed the word reason, "Price doesn't have a Netflix account of his own! The bastard uses mine whenever he can figure out the password. The things he watches..."

Zeller shivered, glaring over at the smirking Price.

"Pay up."

"One more round!"

"No."

"Jesus, dude! Why the hell haven't you just gotten your own Netflix account?! It's 8 dollars a month!"

"Why pay for my own account when I can use yours, and vex you at the same time?"  
"Every time you use my account, all I see is "Friends" and "Grey's Anatomy" and "South Park" filling my recommended section!"

"What can I say, I'm a stickler for comedy?"

Will sighed, rubbing his temple as the two continued to argue. He made his way out of the immaculate lab, listening to Price and Zeller throwing insults back and forth. He was obviously not going to get any help from them.

"Last week, all you did was watch documentaries on different species of jellyfish!"

"Jellyfish are majestic creatures that have the capabilities to take over the world! Much like myself!"

"The only resemblance you have to a jellyfish is that you have no brain!"

"Freaking idiot."

"Wow, smart, Price..."

He made his way back upstairs, dreading what he was about to do next.

Measuring the value of his life against his dislike for being social, he knocked twice on Jack's office door.

"I swear, if this is Price coming to show me pictures of jellyfish again..." Jack growled, his voice sounded murderous.

"Jack?"

He put his hand on the cool door handle, hesitating to open it.

"I've stuffed jackets under my door and unplugged my fax machine! You have no power over me!"

"It's Will..."

He pulled the door open, taking a step forwards and nearly tripping on one of Jack's FBI jackets, which was stuffed tightly under his door, sealing the small gap between floor and wood.

The man in question looked up from his desk. Stacks and stacks of paperwork littered the cluttered surface. They piled on top of each other feet high. Jack was furiously typing on his open laptop. Empty coffee mugs were everywhere.

"Oh, Will. What do you need?"

"Zeller's been sending you pictures of jellyfish?"

"For the last week. Says the FBI should force trainees to take courses on their 'amazing qualities'."

"Ahh..." Will leaned against the wall near the door, pulling out the rumpled form of paper.

"You seen Beverly around? I have something to return to her."

Jack saw the paper and sighed, picking up a mammoth sized cup of coffee and taking a deep drink.

"She ask you to go ice skating too?"

"Yeah."

Jack rubbed his temple. Apparently, he and Will were feeling very much the same at the moment.

"Sometimes, I wonder why I still put up with that trio of kids..."

"Because, despite their moronic appearances, they are the best in their fields about what they do." Will replied.

"So, you haven't seen her?" Will returned to his main point.

"She left a few minutes ago. Told me that something urgent came up."

Will grew concerned, frowning.

"Urgent?"

"She wouldn't say."

"I hope it's nothing bad." Will murmured and Jack nodded.

"You should humor her, Will. Go out and socialize." Jack stated, turning back to his computer.

"Is that an order?" Will asked snarkily.

"No. It's a suggestion. And an attempt to keep Beverly from knocking down my door with a cannon, and dragging me to the damn lake."

"She threatened to do that?" Will raised an eyebrow, amused at his coworker's audacity.

"Yes."

Great. Now his boss was practically telling him, in a very roundabout way, to sacrifice himself to the whims of the terrifying Beverly. He couldn't refuse.

"... Fine."

"Thanks. And Will?" Jack called as Will turned to the door.

"Hmm?"

"Good work on this case."

Will felt a swell of pride, and forced himself to keep his face neutral.

"Thanks."   
Deciding that there wasn't much more for him to do at the office, Will packed his things and drove the hour back to his house in Wolf Trap. Upon returning home, he was mauled by his pack of dogs. The recently added Winston jumped up and licked his face enthusiastically. Will always felt at ease around his dogs. They were constantly loving, constantly friendly, and constantly happy to see him. Three traits that most people didn't have around Will Graham.

"Whoa, easy Winston... Down... Down."

He set his bag near the door, trying to make his way inside his warm house as the horde of animals jumped and yipped with excitement.

Will knelt down, allowing his dogs to scramble around him, vying for his attention. They each gave him their own special greeting. Winston licked his cheek. Buster knocked his head up against Will's shoulder. Jack, the rather uptight German shepherd mix that Will named after his own boss, spun in a circle three times. Harley yipped once, before falling to the floor and rolling onto her back. Ellie nodded to him with a smile on her face, drooling onto the floor. Zoe jumped about on her hind legs, doing a little dance. Henry growled out a greeting, his old age preventing him from jumping like his pack mates.

After greeting them in turn, they spun, making their way to the main living room where their beds were. They each found a spot in the room, curled up and fell asleep. That was one of the reasons Will loved his pack. They could take care of themselves and looked out for each other. This made it easier for Will to deal with the large amount of traveling his job threw at him.

He slowly made his way to the small kitchen at the back of the house, pulling out a premade meal of "chicken and lasagna" and stuffing it into the microwave. His house was open, the main room of the downstairs surrounded by large windows. Couches and old chairs lined the walls of the room, and an electric fireplace sat on one side of the wall, filling the room with light and warmth. The one bathroom of the house was located upstairs, as well as Will's room.

Fishing poles and equipment hung up, taking most of the wall space up, and a table held fly tying materials. Bits of brightly colored fluff. Plastic worms and insects. A magnifying glass attached to the wooden surface, so it could spin over the entire table. An old boat motor sat in the corner, near a bookshelf.

Will didn't know why he kept so many seemingly random objects in his house. Whenever he got the idea to clean the mess, he would find something else to do. Take his dogs for a walk. Go fishing. Sweep. Eventually he just chalked up his odd collection to his equally odd personality.

The microwave dinged and he jumped, his sleep deprived brain hazy. He ate his dinner in silence, sitting at the small dining room table and thinking about FBI cases. After that, he fed his dogs and took them out for a long walk. His farmhouse was practically in the middle of nowhere compared to the jam packed city of Baltimore, and he enjoyed the aspen and oak filled woods that surrounded his house. His dogs loved it as well, and they ran chasing each other and playing in the chilly night air. He laughed as Winston tackled Harley, who jumped up and began to growl threateningly. She lunged at him, glaring and barking. Henry, ever the peacekeeper, made his way over, his old bones creaking. He gently grabbed Harley by the back of the neck, tugging her away from the smirking Winston. He then smacked Winston in the face with his tail, letting out a low huff.

He tied flies for a bit, read a book and then collapsed onto the pull out bed in the living room. He rarely slept upstairs, liking to be around the comforting snores and breaths of his dogs.

Dark dreams of mutilated bodies, dripping blood filled his mind as he slept. The faces of the many killers he had apprehended with Jack. Insane grins on their faces. They circled around him, chanting things like "you're just like us" and "you like killing, just admit it".

Needless to say, Will didn't get a lot of sleep that night. Early the next morning, he got up, sweaty and heavy with sleep, and took a hot shower. He let the scorching water race over his body, reveling in the heat. It was so hot, that it stung when it hit his body. The pain grounded him. It chased away the images of bloody corpses and murderous intent from his head.

He ate breakfast, and sat at his table for a while after that, sipping an entire pot of coffee.

Honestly, he thought, I'm turning into Jack... What with the amount of coffee I've been consuming...

He spent most of the day wandering around the cold woods, his dogs trailing after him excitedly. It was Autumn, the leaves multiple brilliant hues of scarlet and orange. Walking through the wooded area, Will felt like he was in the middle of a raging inferno, the colors danced around him and the cool wind brushed across his face.

Back at his house, drinking yet another cup of coffee, Will's phone buzzed and he jumped.

It was Beverly.

You excited for tomorrow?

Not particularly, no.

Aww, cheer up, Will! It's going to be fun!

He didn't reply.

A few minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

Oh. Zeller wants to send you something... I'm going to give him your number...

Wait! Beverly!  
It was too late. Moments later, his phone began to buzz nonstop. Images of jellyfish flooded his messages. Purple jellyfish. Moon jellyfish. Jellyfish that were 20 feet long. Swarms of jellyfish. Highly poisonous jellyfish.

At the end of the torrent of pictures, an image of a TV screen. Netflix was up and everything in the recommended and watched section had to do with jellyfish. Jellyfish: Mysteries of the Deep. The Great Ocean. The Unknown Predators. Jellyfish Wars. Will wondered what the last movie was about.

A text came through.

EMBRACE THE JELLY!

Will shut his phone.

Next morning...

Will woke up to the feeling of a wet tongue licking his face. He opened his eyes, and saw Winston's golden orbs staring at him. The dog's tail started to wag quickly as he realized his master was awake.

"Winston?"

A knock at the door made Will sit up, glancing around with wide eyes. His first instinct was that someone was trying to attack him, but he quelled the thought. Ridiculous. He thought. I'm becoming more paranoid than Jack...

He got up, throwing a fluffy robe on that was seated next to the folding couch and stood, making his way to the door. When he opened it, he found Alana, wrapped up in a warm coat and matching scarf, carrying two cups of Starbucks coffee.

"Good morning!" She greeted him, giving Will a gentle smile that made his heart stop.

"Alana... What are you doing here?" Will murmured, still tired, though the cold air was clearing his head rapidly.

"Beverly told me that you agreed to go ice skating with her today. I thought I'd stop by with a little refresher." Alana said, grinning and holding up the steaming coffee.

"You are an angel." Will sighed, letting the chocolate haired woman inside. She took off her shoes at the door, slipping off her winter coat, but keeping the scarf.

Will's pack of dogs came and greeted her enthusiastically. She smiled and knelt down, petting them in turn and smiling.

Will couldn't help but smile at the psychologist who just so happened to be one of his only 'friends'. She was always smiling, calming and gentle, and when Will was around her, he felt like he was stepping into the sun after a long storm. The first time he had met her, he had been apprehensive, as the woman was in the psychology field, but she hadn't pried or poked at him. It was one of the reasons their friendship worked. Even though Will knew she wanted desperately to study him, to figure out how his mind functioned like so many other psychologists, she held back. It made some of their conversations awkward, but he still found her presence nice.

She pointed to one of the cups.

"I got you the vanilla roast. Didn't know what kind of coffee you liked..." She sounded guilty, and Will hurried to reassure her.

"It's great. Thank you."

She smiled up at him, eyes trying to find his own, but he looked away, turning towards the table. 

The clock on the wall read 9:00 AM. He had an hour to get ready, as the drive to the lake would likely take an hour. It was located in a more mountainous region out of Baltimore.

"I overslept..." He murmured to himself, taking a sip of the coffee and letting the stream of caffeine flow through him.

"At least you slept, Will." Alana replied gently, picking up her own cup and patting Winston on the head.

Will nodded. It was uncommon for him to get more than a few hours of sleep a night. He supposed that his exhausted body had finally decided to rest.

"So... Ice skating... Sounds... Fun." Alana continued, knowing not to discuss work with Will, especially in the morning.

"Fun isn't exactly the word I would use to describe it." He replied, rolling his eyes slightly.  
"It will be a good experience, Will." She smiled fondly at him.

"That's what Beverly said."

"Have you ever skated before?"

"A few times when I was a kid. I lived in the south, so there wasn't a whole lot of snow."

"Ahh, I see." Alana said, her voice kind. "So you're more of a swimming person over a skating one?"

"I'm more of a fishing person." Will corrected, glancing around the house at his many rods and poles.

"You're worried." Alana noted, unable to help herself, noticing the man's stiff posture, how his hand was wrapped around the coffee cup in a tight grasp, how he looked away from her even more than usual.

"Alana..." Will tried, a little unhappy with being analyzed so early in the morning.

"I'm not analyzing you, Will. I'm asking you why you're so apprehensive about going skating."

"It's not the act of skating itself, Alana... Though I'm not particularly happy about the activity that Beverly picked. You know that I don't have a very good sense of balance. I don't really look forward to falling on ice hundreds of times today... It's the people..."

"Will, you'll be fine... Beverly, Price and Zeller will be with you. You'll have a group. I know that Beverly won't leave you alone."

"It's those two I'm concerned about. You know full well that Zeller and Price aren't too fond of me."

"Then this will be a good opportunity to show them what a wonderful person you are."

Will scoffed at this.

"Right. Wonderful."

"Will, I'm serious. You'll be fine." Alana stood, picking up her jacket. "I have to go. Client in 30 minutes. Don't worry, Will. Alright?"  
She smiled at him and he tried to return it, though it ended up being more of a grimace.

"Alright. Thank you for the coffee, Alana."

"Anytime, Will."

Alana left, patting the pack of dogs one more time, and Will sighed when the door of his house clicked shut. The coffee he had just consumed was helping his mood and anxiety, flowing through his body like fire. It woke him up, the slight headache he had upon waking was gone.

Will went upstairs, sighing and took a long, hot shower. He dressed in his warmest clothes, wearing a pair of skiing tights under his usual raggedy pair of jeans. He decided to go along with his typical outerwear, a long sleeved plaid shirt with a heavy trench coat style coat on top. He picked up his pair of gloves and frowned, taking in his appearance in the mirror.

The black coat was obscuring his plaid, and he looked rather fancier than he had meant to. Oh well. Snatching his beanie hat off the table, he went outside to his car, watching his breath fill the air like smoke. Everything was growing cooler, and he knew that it would snow soon.

The drive to the lake took longer than Will had expected. He already lived 45 minutes out from Baltimore, and the excess travel time took another half hour. It was 12:10 when he pulled his car into the crowded parking lot near the lake. A large lodge, brightly lit with Christmas lights and smoke flowing out of the top sat on the shore of the frozen lake. Kids and parents milled about the front, wearing brightly colored, puffy coats and talking excitedly to each other.

He got out of his car, shutting the door rather harshly behind him, pulling on his gloves and half running towards the massive building. He felt terrible that he was late, and hoped that Beverly wouldn't be angry with him. Knowing her, she would make him preform a dance in the middle of the lake with everyone watching for punishment.

He pushed open the doors of the lodge, and smiled slightly, feeling a rush of nice warm air engulf him. There were couches, chairs and fireplaces scattered though the first floor. A cafe took up most of the left side, and booths that sold tickets for various events on the lake mirrored the entrance way.

It smelled like pine and cinnamon, a familiar scent that made Will relax uncontinuously, his gloved hands falling to his side.

Beverly waltzed up to him from where she sat with Zeller and Price in a circle of plush chairs. She was grinning widely.

"Hey Will! You finally made it!"

"Sorry, Beverly... The drive took longer than I expected."

"Don't worry about it, Will! Seriously, you should see your face... It looks like you just walked into your own death!" She scoffed and Will couldn't help but think, "How right you are."

Zeller and Price made their way up to him. Zeller wasn't exactly smiling, but he wasn't glaring at Will like he usually did. Jimmy Price, the good natured man he was, tried to make conversation.

"Nice to see you, Will. Excited?"

"Not particularly, no." Will said, deadpan.

Jimmy and Zeller gave each other a look, then burst out laughing.

"Hahaha!!! Did you see his face?! Like a freaking robot! Hahaha!!!" Price guffawed.

"You owe me 10 bucks!" Zeller shouted through his laughter. This shut Jimmy up quickly.

"What?! Come on, man! I was just joking!"

"Not around me. Pay up."

Will gave a questioning look to Beverly, who rolled her eyes.

"They were betting on whether you would show up or not."

"That's... Encouraging." Will mumbled, eyeing the two men who were arguing like children.

"Ignore them. Come on, let's get your skates." Beverly said, taking Will by the arm and leading him towards a large desk in which rows and rows of white and black skates sat. The man at the counter saw her, and grinned. Evidently, he knew her.

"Hey, Bev!"

"Hey, Steven! I need to rent some skates for my friend here!"  
The man was tall, and wore glasses. His blonde hair was messy and his face was red, as if he had just been outside for a long time. He wore a bright red jacket that stated "Skate Guard."

Eyeing Will over, he grinned, holding out a hand.

"Steven. Nice to meet ya."

Will returned the shake, trying to smile. The other man's openness was refreshing to him. He could see why Beverly and him got along.

"Will."

"Short for William?"

"Yes. But I prefer Will. Just Will."

"Well then, 'Just Will'-" Steven grinned at his own lame joke, "what kind of skates do you want today? Figure of hockey?"

"There are different types?" Will asked, looking at Beverly, who ruffled his hair with a smirk.

She gave Steven a look, and he held up two skates. They were both black, but one of them was rather thicker than the other. And one had a nasty pair of spikes sticking out of the blade at the toe.

"Figure skates have picks." Steven informed Will, holding up the skinnier, more elegant looking pair.

"Hockey don't."

The blades of the hockey skates were small then the figure ones. They didn't point out from the boot like the figure skates. Their edge was rounded, small and sharp.

Will thought for a moment. Isn't figure skating for girls? He thought, thinking about the few Winter Olympics he had seen.

But... The figure skates did have the sharp spikes at the end... If Zeller or Price got too annoying he could kick them...

"Figure." He decided.

Beverly beamed.

"Good choice, Will! Now you can do tricks for us!"

Will frowned as Steven and Beverly cracked up.

"I'm not 'trick' worthy material." He said, raising an eyebrow as Beverly smacked him in the arm with her elbow.

He told Steven his shoe size, and was handed a pair of shiny, black skates.

"You're in luck. We just sharpened these ones today." Steven said, smiling.

"Thanks." Will murmured, and Beverly laughed.

She led him back to the circle of chairs, where Zeller and Price were trying to put on their own skates. They both had hockey skates, and began to laugh when they saw Will's.

"You got figure skates?" Price chortled, dropping one of his skates.

"Dude... Those are for girls..." Zeller said with a smirk.

"They are not!" Beverly butted in, smacking them both in the head.

"Figure skating is much better than hockey!"

Zeller smirked.

"Says the former figure skater."

Will glanced up, from where he was attempting to untie the long knots of the laces from his skates.

"You used to skate?" He asked Beverly, who nodded with a triumphant grin.

"Yep. I wasn't very good. You know, figure skating is one of the only 'ok' sports when you have Asian parents. Mine were so pissed when I stopped. I'm pretty sure they wanted me to go to the Olympics..."

Price laughed.

"Not very good?! Bullshit!" He turned to Will. "You should see her! She can do twirls and all that kind of stuff! Not like it's that impressive. Hockey is much better. More manly."

Beverly smacked him in the head again, laughing.

"They're called jumps. Jumps and spins, you uneducated cretin! And all the male figure skaters I know could skate circles around you!"

"I'm sure they'd want to, seeing as most of them are gay and all... I mean, look at my fine ass! Who wouldn't want to see it from all angles?"

He stood and flashed a pose, sticking his backside out into the air near Zeller's face, who gave a mock look of disgust and leaned as far away as he could.

Beverly started to rant at Price, who jumped out of the way of her blows, laughing and nearly falling multiple times on the thin blade of his skates.

Will on the other hand was thoroughly confused on untying his skate's laces. They were knotted together tightly, wrapped around both the blades and boots of his skates.

"You need help?" The quiet question made him flinch, and he turned to find Zeller, already laced up leaning towards him, giving an amused look at the tangle of laces.

"Umm..." Will started, not sure what to make of the usually hostile man's question.

Zeller just snatched the skates from Will's hands, who gave an indignant sound. He put them in his lap and began to untangle the many knots and gnarls of the laces with ease. Will stared.

"I used to play hockey." Zeller said, in reply to Will's silent question. "Skate laces get hella knotted super easily. It just takes practice."

"I didn't know that." Will murmured to himself.

"We don't know a whole lot about each other." Zeller replied, finishing and tossing the skates back at Will.

Will was about to reply, when Jimmy crashed into Zeller, knocking him over in his seat and sending him sprawling across the floor.

"Fuck!" Zeller shouted.

A few heads turned, and parents glared at the rowdy group. Will pretended that he didn't know them.

"Oops, sorry Brian! I was just trying not to get killed by Beverly!"

"Not get killed by Beverly?! Now you should just worry about not getting killed by me!"

Zeller jumped up, and followed Beverly in their pursuit of the laughing man.

The way that the three interacted made Will feel like a complete outsider. They knew all sorts of things about each other. From the sports they played, to their favorite colors. It was obvious that they were close. As the discouraging thoughts filled Will's mind, he noted that all of them were running around on the thin blades of their skates with seemingly no problem.

Great. They've all skated before. That's just going to leave me as the tottering idiot, slowing them down. Will thought.

He slid on one of the skates, eyes widening when he felt how tight they were. He didn't want to go back and exchange them however, lacing them tightly and as quickly as he could. He tied the long laces into a bow when he reached the top, frowning as the excess string hung down nearly to the blade. Once he was done with the other one, he stood, slightly shaky. It felt like his ankles were jello, and he mentally cursed just thinking about trying to stay upright on solid ice.

This was going to be a disaster.

Beverly ran over to him, pulling a shrieking Price with her. She had a hold of his ear and was pinching it between her long nails.

"Mercy! Mercy!" Price shouted, waving his arms around in a dramatic display.

She saw Will, standing and cheered, glancing down at his skates with a critical eye.

"Here. Stick the laces in the boot. Like this." She knelt down and quickly stuffed the excess lace into the top of his boot.  
"Thanks." Will told her and she hopped back up.

"No problemo, my figure skating buddy! Let's go show those two idiots how much better we are!"

She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the doors and laughing. Brian and Zeller followed, betting with each other about 'who would fall first'. Will had the sneaking suspicion that they had both bet on him.

The lake was partitioned off into various sections. One was for young children, and had a large, metal wall up to prevent others from crashing into them. The small figures tottered around on the ice, falling onto their behinds and laughing as their parents helped them up.

Another half of the lake seemed to be cut off to 'professional' skaters. A large section near the far end was surrounded by bright orange cones, and Will could see people jumping, spinning and racing around. He shuddered as he watched a woman spin rapidly while pulling a leg up parallel to her own body.

Beverly saw where Will was watching and let out a low whistle.

"Nice bielmann spin." She exclaimed, clapping to herself.

Will assumed it was some sort of skating move, and continued to glance around.

There seemed to be an area for people using skating helpers. They were bright red, and looked a bit like elderly people's walkers. The people would grasp onto the top bar and lean on them. Will decided that he would try to snag one of them. They looked like they made skating, or just staying upright much easier.

The rest of the lake was filled with people. It seemed like everyone was skating in the same direction, and the middle was reserved for tricks. There were lots of small groups of skaters, and they all took up a small portion of the lake, joking with each other and falling all over the place.

The concrete porch which led to the lake's edge was covered in rubber mats, to protect the skate blades, and to Will's relief, there were rails practically everywhere.

Beverly grinned, sprinting onto the ice, sliding backwards for a few feet, before twisting her body and spinning to face Will.

Zeller gave her a small round of applause, before gingerly making his way onto the ice. The railings circled the entire ice, and they seemed to be drilled straight into the thick surface. Zeller stumbled for a moment before gaining his balance and gliding over to Beverly, who elbowed him in the side, laughing.

"Oh merciful gods, have pity on me!" Price shouted, running on the ice, hands raised to the sky as if he were praying. He immediately fell onto his back and slid across the ice, getting covered in tiny shards.

"Dude! What the hell!" Zeller shouted, sliding over, and helping the man up.

"I think I just died." Price replied, eyes wide, but joking.

"Idiot."

Zeller let Price go, and the man fell once again, letting out a curse. They began to argue.

Beverly came up in front of Will, holding out her hand.

"Don't worry. You'll do great."

"Says the figure skater."

"Former figure skater." Beverly corrected.

Will decided to grab onto the railing instead of taking Beverly's offered hand, worried that if he fell, he would take her down with him.

He slowly put a foot on the ice, testing his weight. It was like solid ground wasn't even a thing anymore. He fumbled and almost fell, managing to right himself and grasping the railing for dear life.

"Don't point your knees in, Will!" Beverly shouted, arms out to steady him. He was now fully on the ice, and while he wasn't moving, he still slid about, feet nearly sliding out from under him.

"Stand up straight! Don't hunch over!"

Will realized that he was indeed hunched over like an old man, and tried to straighten his back. To his surprise, his feet stopped skidding around under him.

"Thanks." He said, out of breath. Beverly just grinned.

"No problem. Now try moving. Stroke out to the side with one leg."

Will felt like a child being taught how to write his alphabets. His face flushed and he hurriedly pushed out with one of his feet, feeling the traction of the ice under his blade. It was too fast.

He fell forwards, hands and knees hitting the ice and cursing loudly. Beverly let out a gasp, and grabbed him around the shoulders, helping him back up.

"Oww..." Will groaned, his knees and hands throbbing with pain.

"Maybe you should try that a bit... Slower..."

"You don't think?" He shot at Beverly, irritated. His snappy remark didn't seem to phase the woman, and she gave him a thumbs up.

This time, he pushed out more gently, and felt himself being propelled forwards against the slippery surface. Still holding onto the rail, he managed to stay upright, internally cheering at his small success.

Beverly let out a whoop and jumped up and down, the spikes on her skates making small, deep holes in the ice.

"Good job, Will! I knew that you would be good at this! Let's go!"

She skated slowly besides Will as he repeated the process, alternating the leg he was stroking out with. Zeller was further out in the middle of the lake, hauling a pained looking Jimmy Price along. He was smirking as the older man scrambled around, his feet kicking in front of him.

It began to get easier, Will noted. As he became familiar with the heavy weight on his feet, the way his blade would slide against the ice. He began to understand how much pressure would cause him to slide that much of a direction. How his sense of balance would shift and sway as he glided along.

Beverly chatted next to him about everything and nothing, knowing that Will was inside his own mind, calculating the amount of weight to put on each foot, figuring out how hard to push. Will was glad for her company, and she seemed to be just fine with talking to herself. They were more than halfway around the lake when Will looked up. Most of the skaters were in the front half, closer to the lodge, and there were only a few stragglers on the thick ice where they stood.

"Beverly, you think we should head back?" Will asked.

Beverly looked around, then jumped in surprise.

Will turned just in time for a black blur to brush up against him, speeding towards them.

"Wha?!" He yelped, trying to keep his balance.

It was Zeller, being chased by Price.

"Hah! Sucker! You can't catch me! I was on the elite hockey team!" He shouted, throwing up a middle finger to point out behind him.

"Canadian ice is much more difficult to skate on than the pansy ice here! Bring it on!" Price proclaimed, seemingly at home on the ice now, and racing towards the taller man.

Beverly shook her head.

"Those two... Did you know that Price also used to skate? He came from Canada, so no surprise..." She rolled her eyes, grabbing Will and pulling him back to his feet.

He shook his head in response to her, eyes wide at the speed of the two men now going in circles in the middle of the lake.

He was beginning to have a headache, not only from the cold and stress he was putting on his body to stay upright, but because of the antics of his colleagues.

"Hey, Bev!" Zeller shouted, waving her over.

"Come and show us what you've got!"

"Hell no!" She yelled back, putting a hand on Will's shoulder.   
"I'm not going to leave Will!"

"Beverly... It's fine." Will tried, but she threw an arm around his neck shouting, "We're skating buddies!"

Price skidded to a halt next to Zeller. He glanced over at the man, and they both nodded.

Simultaneously, the shouted, "Figure skating sucks! It's for sissies who can't handle the hype of hockey!"

Beverly's grip around Will's neck tightened and he began to choke.

"What. Did. You. Say?!" She shrieked, waving her free arm around in a fist.

"B-Beverly..." Will spluttered out.

"Oh! Will! Sorry about that!" She exclaimed, releasing him with a guilty look on her face.

"Come and show us your twinkle toes, pansy!"

Will could practically see a vein pulse in her forehead, her dark eyes narrowing. She reminded him of an angry tiger, and he made a mental note not to piss the woman off in the future.

With a sickly sweet voice, and an innocent smile, Beverly turned to Will.

"I'm so sorry Will... But I hope you don't mind..."

Will nodded numbly.

"Go ahead."

"Great! I'll come and find you as soon as I beat those two idiot's asses in. Remember! Go slow!" 

And with that, she shot off towards them, legs pumping gracefully out behind her, racing across the ice at an inhuman speed. Zeller and Price gave high pitched screams and started to run.

She sped after them screaming, and they got further and further away from Will, who took in a deep breath of frigid air. All the shouting was making his head hurt. He turned, starting to slide his way across the ice, relishing the newfound silence.

On he went, observing the beautiful scenery around him. Verdant pine trees and leave-less oaks were scattered about, the ground was covered in dead leaves, some of which were scarlet, others were orange.

The tall, wild grasses were dying around the lake, and they swayed in the wind, making quiet swishing noises.

Will hadn't realized how far he'd gone before he glanced up and saw no one around him. The lake had curved off into a small, sheltered bay, the ice shiny and deserted.

Worse, the railings trailed off, only to resume on... The other side, many meters away. Will groaned.

He debated turning around and skating back the way he came, but a sign ordered 'skate this way' with an arrow pointing towards the unsafe section of ice.

Will was never one to break the rules, and steeled himself inside.

How hard can it be? It's just 100 meters...

He took his hand off of the rail, and immediately started to flail about, hands grasping out around him for any point of balance. He nearly fell onto his back, and held onto the railing for dear life.

He tried again with similar results.

Thanking an unknown deity that there wasn't anyone around, he took a deep breath, taking a step backwards. He then ran forwards, putting all of his force into the giant push he gave, thrusting his arms against the rail to propel himself forwards.

Arms windmilling, he shot across the ice at a rapid speed. It didn't last. Within seconds, he had fallen to his knees, which burned as they slid against the ice. He landed on his hands, with nothing to grab onto, and looked up. He had only made it about 20 feet from the railing, and was stranded. He swore.

Slowly, he rose to one knee, sore hand resting on it, as he caught his breath. He tried to stand, only to slide back down onto his knees. It was painful, and he grimaced as his already bruised knees smashed into the ice once again.

Maybe I could just crawl across the ice... He thought.

No. That's ridiculous. I'm not a kid... I can do this.

He rose once again, this time making his way to his feet. He flung his arms around and Beverly's words of advice echoed in his head.

Stand straight.

With all the force he could muster, he stilled his arms, straightened his back and stood up. He slowly regained his balance and grinned.

But... What now?

Without the secure railing to provide support for him to push off of, he had nothing to propel him besides his own momentum and body weight. He slid a foot out, slowly, tenderly and skidded across the ice a few feet. Victory. He did it again. And again.

His victory came to a fast halt as one of the damned spikes on his blades caught on the ice, sending him sprawling forwards full force, landing on his stomach, he let out a loud oof, the air knocked out of him.

Dots were flashing behind his eyes, and he held back a moan of pain. He was seriously considering crawling on his hands and knees to the other side, when a soft, accented voice caused his eyes to snap open.

"Are you alright?"

Towering above his prone form was a tall man wearing tightly fitting pants and a long sleeved shirt. His face reminded Will of a Greek statue. High, sharp cheekbones jutted out from his immaculate face, sharp, dark eyes took in every detail of Will's scattered self. He had light brown hair that reached the back of his neck, elegantly brushed back against his head.

Will reeled back, flinching as the sudden figure appeared above him.

"Umm..." He tried, and the man looked amused. He was wearing all black, and he was thin, but not unhealthily so. Toned muscles stuck out against the tight edges of his shirt, and his legs were long, lean and strong looking.

Will sat up, brushing pieces of ice off of himself.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

He was horrified that anyone had seen him fall, even more so that it was a man who looked like he should be modeling.

"Do you need help? You look like a beginner skater." The man continued, eyes darting over Will's clothes, his scratched skates.

Will looked down at the man's skates. They were obsidian like midnight, their surface scratch free and immaculate. There were more spikes on the front, and they were much larger than the ones on Will's skates. The man was good. Will could tell just by looking at him. The calm way he stood, leaning on one of his skates, the other keeping his body up. He looked completely at home on the ice.

Hating to look weak, Will shook his head.

"No. I'm fine."

He got to his knees once again, and tried to push himself into a standing position, no longer wanting to be sitting below the poised man. In his haste, his toe pick caught on the ice once again, and he sprawled forwards, hands slapping the ice. He knew that he would be leaving the lake with more than one bruise... That is, if he managed to leave at all.

Struggling up, a hand appeared in his vision.

"Please. Allow me."

He looked up, grimacing at the now concerned expression on the man's pristine visage. He looked away quickly, not meeting the man's eyes, his teeth gritting together.

"I'm..." He was about to say 'fine' when the soft voice interrupted.

"Covered in ice, wet, cold and injured. Please. Let me help you."

Eyes widening at the bold statement, Will glared up at the man, whose face was calm, revealing nothing.

Slowly, he took the offered hand, using the steady weight of the man to pull himself to his feet. He released the hand like it was fire, trying to turn away from the man as soon as he was on his feet, but instead nearly fell again.

An arm wrapped around his waist before his knees could hit the ice again, hoisting him upwards in a smooth pull. The man stood behind him, close enough that their bodies were touching, holding Will's waist, his long, powerful arm curling around his upper stomach. Will's heart jumped. He hated physical contact, and began to struggle.

"Stop." The order was swift. "You will fall again, should you continue to struggle."

Against his better judgment, Will kept struggling, trying to fight his way out of the firm grasp he was in. The man was warm, taller than him. He could see and feel his warm breath against his ear and neck, and shivered.

Long, slender fingers wrapped around Will's neck, and squeezed.

Will froze.

"Please."

The man ordered, the word a plea, but his tone commanding.

As soon as Will stopped moving, the hand left his throat, instead settling on his shoulder.

"Now, I'm going to pull you over to the railing, alright?"

The man continued to speak as if threatening to strangle a random stranger was an everyday occurrence. His voice was like velvet, smooth and low. He had an accent that Will couldn't point out. Not Russian or British... But somewhere from Europe.

"Fine." Will answered, and the man released his waist, in the blink of an eye spinning from Will's back to his front, elegantly wrapping his hands around Will's forearms. Will gave a shout and began to fall forwards, but his head bumped into the man's chest. He smelled like spice, but it was smooth instead of prickly as most cologne smelled.

Hands steadied him, pushing him away slightly, slowly, as if the other man didn't want to let go. Will wasn't thinking of that at the moment, mortified and disgusted with himself that he was being such an idiot at the moment.

"I... Sorry." He said shortly.

The man's voice was kind.

"Do not apologize. Even the strongest people require help every so often."

When Will didn't answer, the man lowered his head, looking at Will, eyes searching his face. Will looked away, and the man straightened again.

"I'm going to move. Please try to keep your balance. Hold onto me."

He began to shift his weight from side to side, skates spread parallel to each other, his hips shifting back and forth. Surprised, Will realized that they were moving. The man continued to slide backwards steadily, keeping a firm grip on Will's arms, moving at slow pace, ensuring that Will didn't lose his balance again.

His legs moved in C shapes, alternating stroking across the ice, as they glided along, and Will found himself watching the man's practiced actions with his eyes wide.

The man came to a smooth stop, tiling his skates so they pushed into the ice, instead of across it, and stilled.

Will, not prepared for the sudden stop, continued forwards, smacking into the tall man, before flailing backwards.

Again, arms wrapped around him, but his back this time. They held him tight, keeping him up as he regained his balance.

He saw the red railing out of the corner of his eye, and flung himself at it, arms wrapping around it. The metal surface was calming, and he breathed in once, before struggling to his feet, and glancing at the man.

He was looking amused, one eyebrow raised, his hands behind his back, folded and collected.

"I... Thank you." Will said, never once looking at the man, or meeting his inquisitive gaze. The words were quiet.

"You have nothing to thank me for. Every good skater helps out their fellows when in a tough spot."

Not knowing how to reply, Will turned back to the railing, thinking the man would skate away, back to train or practice or whatever he was doing here. He slid forwards, using his arms to push him instead of his aching legs.

"May I join you?"

He looked back.

"Huh?"

The man hadn't moved from his spot, instead poised and expectant, like a lion watching its helpless prey. The glint in the man's eyes made Will pause. It was dangerous, dark...

"Uhh... Why would you want to do that?"

"Ethical obligation, for one. As skater, I want to make sure you get back to the other side of the lake without complication. Moreover, your knees are also injured."

Will gaped.

"Secondly, because you look like an interesting man. I feel as if we could have many absorbing conversations."

"I'm not very good company." Will replied, starting forwards again.

The man glided up next to him, keeping a few feet away from him. But his intense gaze made Will feel as if he were much closer.

"I disagree." The man said, slowing to match Will's pace. "You have seen many things that would break normal people. There is a darkness in your eyes. I noticed it the moment I saw you. I wonder... What realms have you gazed into... To infuse your soul with such twilight..."

Now irritated at the man's odd, yet surprisingly accurate description, Will glared at the man.

"What are you, a psychologist?"

The man's lips twitched upwards as Will nearly toppled forwards again.

"Close. I am a psychiatrist."

Will froze. He did not like the 'psych' field of study at all. And most to all of his encounters with those in the field were not pleasant. They would so obviously try to pick at his brain, take him apart, that it made him cringe.

"... I see." He said, voice short and blunt. He took a particularly hard shove against the ice, shooting forwards, arms flailing.

"You are not fond of psychiatry."

"I'm not fond of being analyzed."

"Have many others attempted to analyze you?"

He knew the man was wondering what impressive abilities he had, to warrant the proclaimed attention of the industry.

"Enough have."

"That's a shame. To put a person's psyche, their soul under such close scrutiny will offer no desirable results. Perhaps they should have tried to understand you, rather than pick you apart." 

Will didn't reply, fine with being rude when it came to his 'psyche' and 'soul' being discussed. He shot forwards again, gaining the familiar feeling of skating.

"May I ask your name?"

The irritating man was still gliding next to him, not needing to see where he was going, eyes entirely focused on Will.

"Why would I tell you?"

The answer was swift, as if the man had been expecting such a curt reply.

Calm. Amused.

"So that we may socialize like adults."

This irked Will. The man somehow knew that he wasn't a rude or childish person by nature. That by insinuating such a thing would elicit a response.

"Will Graham."

He saw sanguine eyes widen for a moment, as if the man knew him... Unnerved at the calculating look on the man's face, he blinked. When he opened his eyes, it was gone, a small smile replacing the cold mask.

"I am Hannibal Lecter. It is a pleasure to meet you, Will Graham."

"You're a psychiatrist..." Will started. "Who is also a skilled skater. Odd combination."

Eyes glinted.

"What makes you believe that I am a skilled skater?"

"You're not looking at where you're going, when I first saw you, your posture exhibited that you are completely comfortable on ice. Your skates are immaculately cared for, as well as a much higher caliber than mine. You can skate backwards with ease, though, I honestly don't know if that takes a great deal of skill... Your clothes are also made for skating, and they're high quality. You've also managed to make it all the way out here, something that the majority of people abstain from doing... Which means you're confident that you can get back to the lodge without problem."

The man was watching him like a hawk, his eyes taking in every detail of Will's face, from the structure of his sentences, to the way his lips formed certain words. Hannibal looked away for a moment, and smiled to himself.

"You are quite a adept at observing, Will. What is it that you do?"

Will frowned. He didn't know if he wanted the man to know too much about him, but decided that because he would likely never meet the man again, to tell him.

"I observe."

"To absorb the environment around oneself. To discern the most immaculate of details, and using logical deduction, generate a conception that answers whatever ponderance the mind has... A difficult task indeed. To whom do your observations go to?"

The man sounded like a walking dictionary. Will scowled.

"The FBI."

"You are a profiler."  
"I am a teacher."

"You are obviously skilled enough that the FBI has taken note of your potential."

"I'm not skilled, Mr. Lecter. Simply curious."

"Dr, if you would, Will."

"What?"

"I was a practicing surgeon for 12 years before this. It may sound a bit absurd, but it is the title that I still chose to go by."

"Uhh... Right. Dr. Lecter."

The man smiled at him, and Will almost tripped again.

"Why skating?"

"Hmm?" The doctor lazily spun in a full circle, only to face Will again, keeping his speed.

"You were a surgeon... And now you're a psychiatrist. Those two jobs are demanding. So why did you chose to skate? Why do you still do it?"

"Is having multiple points of interest unfavorable to you, Will?"

"No. Just interesting."

Another smile.

"To answer your previous question, I skate because I find it to be an appropriate way to exercise my body. The job of a psychiatrist is not physically demanding. Often, those in the practice forget to look after their physical health. They focus mainly on their mental sharpness, which is detrimental to their bodies as a whole."

"Oh."

It was a lame answer, but Will was trying to take in everything the strange man was saying.

"What do you do, to ensure your physical fitness, Will?"

Will realized that even though he was calling the man Dr. Lecter, he was not obtaining the same courtesy. It went against the social contract theory, and the man didn't seem to mind, which was equally irritating and odd. 

"Various things."

"Is this your first time skating?"

The question startled Will.

"Yeah, why?"

"Have you ever considered taking up the sport? You are doing quite well for someone who has never skated before."

Will let out a snort of laughter, thinking the man was joking.

"Yeah. I'm doing soooo well... I've only fallen, what... 50 times already..."

"Your balance will adjust in time. As will your poise and posture. Things like this take practice."

Will looked up, eyes wide.

"You're serious?"

"Deadly."

Something in the way the man purred out the word made Will's blood run cold. It was silky, like velvet, but there was an undertone of threat. Will's decision on whether the man was dangerous was set at that very moment.

Beverly crashed into him.

With a loud yelp, they both fell on top of each other. Will onto his back, Beverly sprawled out on top of him. She got up, face red, blushing and apologizing furiously.

"Oh my god, Will! I am so sorry!"  
Will looked up at her, ribs and back throbbing.

"It's... Fine..." He wheezed, and saw with astonishment that he was nearly back at the lodge.

"Are you two alright?" Dr. Lecter asked, taking in the new asian woman who was hopping around nervously from foot to foot.

Will stumbled upwards.

"Yeah..." He said.

The doctor gave Beverly an expectant gaze.

"Oh! I'm fine! Sorry again Will! I really hope I didn't hurt you!"

"No more than I already am..." Will mumbled to himself, wincing at the stinging in his knees and hands.

"Is this your friend?" Dr. Lecter asked, turning to Beverly, who jumped and bowed.

"Oh! I'm sorry, sir! My name is Beverly! I'm the one who brought Will..."

"Dr. Lecter." Hannibal said, smiling and giving her a small nod.

"I must thank you for bringing him. He has been a pleasure to talk to."

Beverly's eyes widened. She took in the tall man's appearance, his form fitting clothes, fancy skates, and beautiful posture.

"Umm... No problem!"

Will was beginning to realize the doctor had the effect of making everyone around him a spluttering, apologizing mess. He frowned.

"Are... You a pro?" Beverly asked, eyes wide.

"No." Hannibal replied with amusement. "Not a pro. Merely a partaker of the sport."

"Can you do a trick for us?" Beverly's eyes were shining and her hands were clasped together. She reminded Will of an excited child, and he smiled.

Dr. Lecter gave Will a slightly questioning glance, as if asking him whether he should humor the woman. Will nodded.

"She'll never stop talking if you don't."

Hannibal turned to Beverly, giving his own small bow.

"It would be my pleasure."

With the grace and power of a tiger, the man shot off, one long stroke enough to send him flying across the ice. He raised his right arm parallel to his body, bringing the other elegantly up and out to the side, his speed picked up as he sped across the ice, and he made a large circle, skates crossing over each other as he picked up speed.

Will thought that this was the trick, and looked at Beverly. She was grinning, eyes fixed on the man, and he knew that something was about to happen.

Dr. Lecter brought a leg up, twisting his body and flipping around to skate backwards, keeping the crossovers consistent and fast. He was going so fast that Will was afraid he would skid off of the ice.

As he rounded in front of Beverly and Will, he balanced on one leg again, flipping to the front. Will heard Beverly inhale quickly.

He raised a leg, throwing it back and bringing it forward like he was kicking the ice. His toe picks dug into the ice, and he flew upwards, arms folding inwards across his chest like a mummy. He spun in the air, legs together, once, twice, three times, before landing backwards on one leg, body folding downwards, one leg gracefully swinging out to the side. His knee was bent to take the force of the landing, and his arms flew out, before he kicked off again. Spinning once, twice, three times. This time, when he landed, he stuck the landing, arms out and let poised above the ice.

A small crowd of people had stopped to watch the elegant man's amazing jumps, and they clapped and gasped as he landed, turning, slowing and making his way back to Will and Beverly.

Will was slightly stunned. He hadn't even realized preforming such a stunt on ice was possible.

Beverly jumped up and down, pumping a fist into the air.  
"Holy crap! That was amazing!" She shrieked, grabbing Will by the shoulders.

"What did he just do?" Will asked, a complete noob to the sport.

"That was a triple axel, triple toe combo! It's Olympic difficulty to nail!"

Hannibal gave another small bow, smiling gently.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Are you sure you're not a pro?" Beverly asked, narrowing her eyes and observing the doctor.

"I assure you, I am not."

Beverly shot a mischievous grin at Will, who had a very bad feeling all of a sudden.

Dr. Lecter, seemingly oblivious of the horror behind the grin paused.

"I hope that I have not interrupted your day. Are you on the verge of leaving?"

Beverly clapped her hands, a spark in her eyes.

"Not at all! Actually I was just about to go find the others! Will!"

Will flinched.

"Yes?"

"Go get some coffee or hot chocolate or something! You look like an ice cube!"

"But..." Will protested, Hannibal however, raised a hand.

"I agree with your friend, Will. After your multiple falls, you need to relax your body."

"You fell?" Beverly asked, eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine..." Will muttered.

"I will stay with Mr. Graham, if you wish, Miss..."

"Just Beverly. Would you really do that?"

"Of course."

Eyes widened, and before Will could protest, she grinned.

"That would be amazing! Thank you so much! Will, make sure you relax, ok?! I'll come find you later."

She sped off, hands up to the sky, yelling for Zeller and Price, who were nowhere to be found.

A sinking feeling filled Will's stomach. He glanced up at the doctor quickly.

"Well, shall we?"

The man gestured to the lodge.

Will sighed.

"Fine."

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you enjoyed! If you liked this, please check out my other fanfictions! (Which I am updating as soon as possible.) 
> 
> Your comments are tripping Will Graham and forcing Hannibal to catch him. The kudos watch, laughing and hoping for smexy smut! 
> 
> Review! (Wait, I already said that...) *runs off stage as rotten tomatoes are thrown*


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